Love in the time of schizophrenia

Came upon a cache of old photos in my computer yesterday night…was riveted by my younger self. What I wouldn’t give… …do I want to be 21 again? Not really. But do I wish I’ve never met the friends I’m doomed to have met? Perhaps. And do I wish I’ver never fucked the people I should’ve politely asked to fuck off instead? Hell yes. Definitely. In fact there are days when I long to return to a state of utter virginity, before any flesh was breached.

Came upon a bunch of essays, notes and stories written in my saner youth…again, was utterly mesmerized by my old way with words. Gifts, they die hard, but diminishing, it happens, naturally, gradually, slowly but surely. The slow slide downwards, into mediocrity. Happens so gradually that by the time you’ve hit rock bottom, people around you have already accepted it. (clearly before you yourself do) And are therefore puzzled when you complain about being no longer the person you gloriously were.

And then there are all the old diaries, photos, relics, fragments of old days etc etc kept in tin after candy tin, shoebox after shoebox. A vale of tears. Pandora’s box. Evidence that it wasn’t all a dream. If I lift the lid, I let out the demons. And who needs demons, when the simple passing of days is enough to bust my brain? I can’t afford to be nostalgic, YET…

memory, you old rogue. stinking up my life when I should be marching forward. But who can deny oneself a little trip down memory lane, when nostalgia is all that’s left? The past is gorgeous, the future bleak. And to stave off the bleakness, one returns to the butterfly-winged past, piecing together a familiar narrative from those sticker photos, christmas cards, love-letters etc.

‘over before it began…’ ‘such a waste…’ ‘coulda been a contender…’ these whispers haunt my sleep. yet I know there are still promises to keep, especially those to myself.

P.S. Late-night rambling after having not slept properly for two days, perhaps I’ll feel better tomorrow morning. Then there’ll be no need for blogging until the next crisis hits.

 

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